


Lilac

by AvaKelly



Series: Bits and Pieces [24]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Clint is a sneaky bastard, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, Life In The Tower, M/M, Oblivious, Pining, Rough past, lilac flowers, peggy carter is clint's fairy godmother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaKelly/pseuds/AvaKelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re really lucky you’ve got a nice ass,“ Steve mutters.</p><p>Clint almost shoots up in surprise, but he manages to reply with “You got nice ass, Steeb.“</p><p>Steve laughs, slow and warm and aw, heart, no. Clint’s about to bolt, because this is dangerous territory, but Steve’s hand in his hair stops him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lilac

**Author's Note:**

> All because Hraf asked [this](http://intermittently-ava.tumblr.com/post/143444570882/clint-mumbles-in-his-sleep-rogers-keeps-getting). And apparently I was in dire need of fluff. Work's been incredibly demanding lately. Boo. Can't wait for the chaos to dissipate. *crosses fingers* In the meantime, let's enjoy fluffy Avengers. Hehe.

All those years as an assassin have taught Clint one thing: when people underestimate him, they make mistakes or reveal things about themselves, important things, unknowingly.

Director Carter taught him that. In his years with SHIELD, B.N. - that is, before Nat - Clint had managed to extract information from all his handlers, the strike teams, and especially those pesky psychologists that SHIELD insisted he sees. He had known, at the time, that Fury was at the end of his wits with him, because nobody had lasted around Clint long enough. Their main reason had been insubordination, but Clint had known better. Calling them out for being crappy about Clint’s skills and intellect had steadily pushed away every bad apple that could fuck with Clint’s shaky self-confidence. And shaky it had been, he knew it, he still knows it. Also, he knows it’s bullshit, because hey, his record speaks for itself, but... aw, brain. Sometimes, when things get overwhelming, there is still a part of him that whispers he’s just a waste of space.

The A.N. era brought Natalia Romanov and her arsenal of manipulation along with one of those handlers that Clint couldn’t fool no matter what he did. Fury’s right hand man and the Black Widow. Clint fit right in. Besides, he tried every twist in the Book of Carter on how to suss out Natasha, but nothing came of it. Even his favorite, sleep mumbling, failed, and that’s when Nat started teaching him how to do it better.

Somewhere in there Natalia became Nat and his best friend. Clint was happy, until Loki, the dreaded scepter, followed by this new team of enhanced superheroes. Clint fell back to his default self-doubt, but one raised eyebrow of Nat’s, and he shook it off, started feeling out these new guys.

It’s why he’s currently pretending to be half asleep on the sofa mumbling at Rogers. Steven. Steve.

Aw, capsicle. Clint almost snickers out loud. Tony has the best nicknames.

Must be awful, to be pulled out of life and thrown somewhere else, far far away. In a way, Steve already died, only instead of going wherever the dead go, Steve went forward.

“Clint, we really need to hand in that report,“ Steve says and nudges at Clint’s legs where he’s lying on the sofa.

Clint responds by saying “shr, ri-on“ and curling himself in a tighter ball. Oh, here it comes.

A deep breath, a long exhale. “Are you even listening to me?“

“Y’cap,“ Clint returns, making sure his mouth is slightly open and drooling a bit.

This is the point where Steve coaxes Clint up, gives him the pen, and makes him scrawl his name at the bottom of the report, after which Steve promises to fill it out for Clint.

This time, though, Steve is silent for a long time. Clint takes a chance of carefully looking at him through his eyelashes. He won’t open his eyes more, lest he is find out, so all he can see is a blurry shape, but Steve looks like he’s considering something, arms crossed.

“You’re really lucky you’ve got a nice ass,“ Steve mutters.

Clint almost shoots up in surprise, but he manages to reply with “You got nice ass, Steeb.“

Steve laughs, slow and warm and aw, heart, no. Clint’s about to bolt, because this is dangerous territory, but Steve’s hand in his hair stops him. And when did Steve get so close?

“Don’t worry, take your nap,“ Steve whispers, and then he straightens, turning away.

~

“One of these days I’ll ask you out and you won’t even remember it,“ Steve mutters, more to himself than anything, walking away from a sleeping Clint. “If I get the nerve.”

He unconsciously runs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it, but catches himself halfway and huffs.

“Real swell, Rogers. New body, new century, new people. Get over yourself. He’s never going to look at you like that.“

“Who’s never going to look at you like what?“ comes from the side and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

“Romanov,“ he says.

“Rogers,“ comes back with a smirk, the sounds tilted up as if she asking a question.

Great, she heard. Great.

“Stay out of it,“ Steve says.

“Out of what?“ comes back, and it sounds so innocent, Steve almost believes it.

But he sighs, shrugging, before walking away. There’s no point in trying to circumvent her seemingly infallible lie detector. “Fine, do what you want,“ he throws while he pokes at the elevator button.

Natasha hums, stepping closer.

“Did you know,“ she whispers, leaning in, “that Clint is way sneakier than he seems? Also, he likes lilac flowers. Purple lilac.“

Steve squints his eyes at her, but she leaves before he can ask for clarifications. Hmm, perhaps not all is forfeit. But lilac? Where is he going to get it this time of year?

And how will he manage to keep Clint awake enough for them to have a real conversation?

He hangs his head with a sigh. Things are not looking good.

~

Clint lies on his back, heart pounding in his chest as he checks his aids. Nope, no faulty anything. No dead batteries. He heard it right.

Slowly, very slowly, Nat’s head comes into view over the back of the sofa before she rests her chin on her forearms, and Clint puts his aids back in. “You could do much worse,“ she says.

“Ngh,“ is all that comes out of Clint’s mouth.

“He could be the one,“ Nat smiles.

Clint scowls at her. “Captain America is not going to magically bring me purple lilac and save me from my shitty life.“ He’d dreamed of it, way back, when he had that poster showing a drawing of Captain America with a bunch of lilacs extended in his hand, smirk on his lips, glint in his eyes, telling the audience that _‘I’m here, you’re safe.‘_ Clint’s been too much of a fan, a starry eyed idiot that couldn’t develop romantic relationships because his heart had decided it wanted a long dead national hero. Having that poster, it literally saving his life during those cold long nights when everything had been too much, that hasn’t helped. So later, when director Carter would tell him stories of war, adulation turned to affection. Clint still has that picture Peggy gave him of a small and scrawny and determined Steve safely tucked away somewhere.

“You never know,“ Nat returns, then disappears before Clint can figure out what she's up to now.

~

Steve cannot find lilac flowers to save his life. He’s looked, everywhere. It’s amazing, how a city so versatile and intricate as New York lacks lilacs entirely. Especially when Steve needs them most.

Yes, for the past week he has been wringing his breeches over this new information he has. Natasha might be up to something, but Steve is sure it’s not nefarious. She’s Clint’s friend, his very close friend, from what Steve’s managed to determine. So it’s not likely she would screw with Clint like that. Unless they’re both in on it… nah, Steve shakes his head. He’s read Clint’s file. Clint had had his share of bullies in life, and from what Seve’s seen of his activity at SHIELD, he sounds like, should they have met as kids, they’d’ve been best pals bruising their jaws against the knuckles of bullies together.

So, armed with new determination, heart in teeth and all that, Steve has decided to go find lilacs. If the intel is correct, then he’ll thank Natasha. Otherwise, he’ll just give flowers to all Avengers. Cover up. Yeah, good plan, if only he can find the damn things.

Two days later he’s elbows deep in the bowels of the ever so helpful internet, the florist section. No luck, anywhere. Until, one bleary dawn - and Steve might have an enhanced body, but he should remember not to skip sleep two nights in a row -  he stumbles upon it: Lila’s Stitch. Online crafts store that sells incredibly beautiful fake lilacs. They’re not the real deal, but they do look amazingly carefully put together, so they’ll have to do until the season rolls over.

With a deep breath, Steve places the order, hoping that these flowers will bring a smile to Clint’s lips. And a yes to Steve’s practiced “Do you want to get some coffee?” It’s what people ask these days.

~

The smell of lilac drifts closer and Clint stretches under the comforter, inhaling with a sigh. He likes this dream, it’s his favorite. In it, Cap comes out of the poster and he’s real.

“You came,” Clint smiles. “Finally,” and he wraps his fingers around Cap’s wrist.

Steve, his name is Steve, Clint reminds himself with a chuckle. Never in his life had he thought he’d ever get to know the actual Cap. Heh. He’s one lucky guy.

“Why lucky?” Steve asks.

“You’re here,” Clint returns, blinking sleepily at Steve and the lilac flowers in his hand. “I love this dream, baby, but...”

“But?”

“It’s always over too soon,” Clint says and pulls at Steve’s hand until Steve’s sitting on the bed and Clint can wrap his arms around his middle. “Wish it was real.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make it real.”

“You always say that,” Clint mumbles at the dream figment, struggling to keep the image of lilacs in front of him, but it fades away, replaced by warmth around him, a peck to his temple.

~

Steve shouldn’t have let Natasha convince him to sneak in Clint’s room while he’s napping. But now, as he lays there with Clint in his arms, maybe it was a good idea, after all.

He draws air through his nose, lets it out slowly, listening to the beating of his own heart, spreading a sweet ache behind his ribs. Clint’s admissions have given him new hope, a lot more than before. Now that he knows what Clint wants, he’s going to make damned sure Clint gets it.

So he stretches to place the bunch he’s been holding on the nightstand, takes a moment to press his lips against Clint’s temple again.

Even if Clint forgets what they talked about, that’s fine.

Because Steve will be here when he wakes up. Will show him he’s real. Not as the flowers that grow in trees, but as the crafted lilacs that last forever, if cared for.

And Steve’s certain. Clint will care.

~End~


End file.
